


Just Let It Be

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Hair-pulling, Licking, Light BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Canonical, Pet Names, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Here are some headcanons for Fullmetal Alchemist. These ones in specific are centralized around kinks and random risqué AUs. These are by no means canon, but they are, however, rooted in canonical facts (to some degree).





	1. Silken Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed’s pride and joy: his golden hair.

Edward was stubborn and it wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out. Everyone who has ever met him knew this fact. However, it wasn’t solely his persistent resolution that drove him to abstain from revealing his deepest desires.

Of course, everyone had their secrets. Everyone had their carnal pleasures which they withheld from the rest of the world. Ed, a teenage boy, typical in that respect, was no different.

He felt desires burn so passionately he felt as though he would die if left unsated. Some lusts could never be sated, regardless of the frequency of which they were practiced.

Internally victim to his own nethermost cravings, Ed presented himself with the utmost pride, never provoking the thought of unchastity. He concealed his undying thoughts and secluded them to the mind for personal contemplation.

Particularly, Ed had a strong affinity for hair-pulling. He would never have admitted, but to himself, he could not lie.

More often than not, in his solitude, Ed would find his mind drifting instinctually toward the idea. Sometimes, he would imagine Winry toying gently with his blonde locks. Sometimes, this happened at the most unfortunate moments.

When Winry has first offered to braid Ed’s hair he had been reluctant to accept. His infatuation with the prospect was of his own concern and simply couldn’t refuse. Winry was soft and deliberate in her actions, carefully twining the strands together. Her attentive actions had made Ed shiver and was every bit as nurturing as he had expected in the task. To his surprise, Winry made few, if any, of her common blunt remarks.

For the short duration the experience lasted, the pair were practically silent. Ed found himself fond of this side of the girl. It was quite contradictory to her usual somewhat abrasive mannerisms, but he found himself attracted to it nonetheless. He had grown to love her seemingly harsh traits, but found them beautifully complimented by this other side of her.

The gently tugs and stroking were pleasant, but the sensations were nothing compared to his other, more vivid fantasies.

Far more recurrently than he would have cared to acknowledge, Ed had wild daydreams of his superior officer: Roy Mustang. 

Mustang was not a man Ed would have commended for a kindly nature, so his response came as quite a shock when the classified fact was revealed. An unforeseen understanding betrayed the cold outermost later of Mustang.

The straining situation had occurred in the most inopportune of places: Mustang’s office.

The sun had just turned to its evening glow when Ed appeared, unannounced, at the office. Havoc, Fuery, Breda, and Falman had all long been dismissed, but Hawkeye and Mustang still remained when Ed arrived.

He greeted the pair, as was ordinary, and hesitated by the door. Hawkeye nodded curtly and left the room, ceasing whatever conversation she had been in with her commanding officer.

Mustang glanced over at Ed, but quickly busied himself with a small stack of paperwork. After a moment, he paused shuffling the documents,

”Well?” He looked up, raising an eyebrow,

”What is it, Fullmetal?”

Ed’s mind had ineptly blanked. The paper in his hand, of which he had forgotten, slipped from his grasp.

Hotly, Ed scrambled for the scattered sheets,

”I brought that report,” He muttered, a surprisingly bashful tone hidden beneath typical animosity.

”You mean that late report?” Mustang corrected flatly, tucking the documents he held into his desk.

Biting back snapping a reply, Ed simply slid the report onto the desk.

Ed knew he was acting unusually and hoped Mustang would make no mention of it, however, luck was plainly not on his side of the matter.

”Is there something else you wanted to say to me, Fullmetal?”

”To you? Definitely not,” Ed grumbled, purposely avoiding the colonel’s gaze and trying to look preoccupied with a means of distraction, any really.

Mustang stepped out from behind his desk and took a few steps toward the door,

”C’mon, I’ve got to lock up the office.”

Ed, of course had been struct and ensnared by a fantasy of his. Being as reasonable as he was, Ed labelled them more as delusions than possibilities. They were improbably fantasies and such were to be dealt with exactly like that, as fantasy.

”What’s got you so distracted, Fullmetal?” Mustang asked, cautiously approaching the subject, knowing the sort of gloomy things the boy had lingering on his conscience.

”Nothing, Colonel.” Ed responded clearly, accidentally aware of his suspiciously swift reply.

Mustang narrowed his eyes, but gave the matter no more thought. He held the door open, attempting to coerce the boy out of the office.

He made no imediate reaction to this, however, Ed, for once, quietly complied. His head had been swimming with ravenous thoughts which chagrined him deeply. At the time, Ed would never have thought himself one especially affliated with such lustful ideation. He knew maturing meant a variety of changes and new concerns, but the arrival of these thoughts over the past month or so had gotten progressively more intense.

Initially, Ed took great interest in them, a newfound curiosity kindled by his aptitude to learn. Not long after, he began to develop a sort of shame for his emotions. He though that, surely, no one else was interested in such peculiar things as he.

As he stepped toward the exit, Ed had a startling accident.

First, a wave of shock hit, and then, a wave of horror, but neither compared to the rush of realization that shortly followed. Ed, uncharacteristcally, had slipped. Even worse still, were the results of the tragic mishap.

The blond’s limbs had splayed out in surprise, the auto-mail leg of which hitting the wood with a thud.

In spite of the slip, the most disastrous event of all was Mustang’s reaction. Swifter than most, he had darted forth to prevent the fall, but in his haste, had been unaware of where he reached.

Mustang, unintentionally, had grabbed Ed’s braid, supending the boy halfway in mid-air. With little delay, Mustang promptly released his grasp on the hair, but it was too late.

Through the practically unbroken silence of the minor calamity, the only sound to have been articulated (aside from Ed’s leg) was the unmistakable, persistent moan of Ed. Clasping his hands over mouth in both shock of himself and embarrassment, Ed jolted to his feet.

He dropped his hands to his sides, now clenched into fists and hurried out the door and down the hall.

”Fullme-“ Mustang began, calling after him,

”Ed!” He corrected himself, reavealing unforeseen compassion.

Ed stopped dead in his tracks at yet another shock. He glanced over his shoulder at the equally perplexed and concerned man, but made no move in either direction.

Mustang, abandoning the door, jogged up beside Ed.

”Are you-“

Ed met him with pleading eyes, from which he could not bring himself to continue.

”Look,” Mustang began again, mustering confidence to press on,

”I’m sorry for... whatever I caused. I-“

”No,” Ed cut him off firmly,

”Thank you,” Without another word or second thought, Ed rushed off.

Later that evening, Ed reflected on the encounter, discerning the truth of the matter. He could recount a gratifying chill running up through his spine at the jerk to his scalp.

From then on, Ed found his fantasies with a more centralized target. Subconsciously, Ed hoped for another situation like the one he had experienced then. Fortunately for him, some good did come of the event. 

For one, Ed fully acknowledged his feelings for two things: Roy Mustang and hair-pulling.

Secondly, the two never spoke of the tense moment again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe not canonically, but I see Ed as such a bi icon. Like? Yes?


	2. Child of the Spotlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang sees Ed in a new light - literally and figuratively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve read a lot of interpretations of this AU, so here’s my take ;)

Roy Mustang, being the reasonable man he was, hadn’t expected it to be the best day of his life, but he also hadn’t anticipated such an unorthodox occurrence. Especially from one Edward Elric, his subordinate no less.

It was summer, not only did the days feel long, they were longer. Mustang couldn’t wait to get off work and relax. A bar was the ideal destination and he would have gone just there if Havoc hadn’t convinced him otherwise at the last minute.

“I’m really not in the mood for that tonight. I-“

“You will not regret it, boss! I’ve heard the place is great. We’ll go this Friday.”

“The place” in question was the latest club to have been established in Central City. The business wasn’t uncommon in the city and was quite popular among many. However, that which Havoc spoke of was no ordinary dance club. This one was a strip club.

As it was, Mustang was never a particularly big fan of them, having visited more so in his youth. This day was the one day he would give in to Havoc’s persuasions. Mustang, of course, knew what to expect and didn’t think he would himself all that disappointed in the end.

Supposedly, as Havoc had informed him, although this club had only been open a week, it had rapidly grown to one of Central’s most popular. The military side of Mustang found this awfully suspicious, but he forced any doubt out of his mind; it had to be a legitimate operation. Right?

When the long-awaited day finally came and then came to a close, the pair could leave. Havoc led Mustang out with a blatant excitement radiated off of him. He had a stupid grin on his face, cigarette between his teeth.

“Remind me why we’re walking again,” Mustang grumbled.

“It’s only a couple blocks away and I doubt you’ll leave sober enough to drive!” Havoc chuckled, draping an arm around his friend’s shoulders. He lifted his arm off and hummed some song to himself as he strolled down the road.

Through dusty stone streets and rows of buildings, a cool breeze swept about. A small cloud of hazy cigarette smoke would occasionally drift past. All of the winds felt like a gently breath of relief, tainted by the faint twinge of liquor. It was to be expected, after all, it was still a Friday evening.

“Here, we are!” Havoc announced, abruptly wrenching Mustang from his entranced state.

“Oh,” he muttered, gazing upward at the building’s sign,

“Hmm,” he mused,

“They claim to have the best in the country. What do you think about that?”

“I mean...” Havoc took a drawl from his cigarette,

“I haven’t been everywhere in Amestris, but, from what I’ve heard, it’s true. I know some... veterans of this scene.”

“Of course,” Mustang nodded slowly. Havoc smirked silently in reply as they casually entered the awaiting threshold.

The instant their bodies were within, the pungent scent that loomed in the air flooded their senses. It was an unexpected blend of cheap liquor and expensive perfume. A mass of fog hung lowly in an expanse across the floor of the space. It seemed to be the product of some uncommon machine.

To his mild delight, and Havoc’s disdain, Mustang and Havoc were quietly informed of the establishment’s no-smoking policy. Havoc muttered a few incoherent profanities, but otherwise complied, begrudgingly extinguishing his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and tossing it out to door before it fully closed.

“Classy,” Mustang commented softly, with no real opinion on the matter.

“Pretentious, if you ask me...” Havoc replied, bitterness still lingering in his tone.

Mustang shrugged,

“Kicking the habit wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Havoc shot a scowl his way, but quickly found himself distracted,

“Look!” He whispered excitedly, all traces of resentment totally lost.

Mustang glanced to his side, finding that which had enamoured Havoc with ease,

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow with cocky delight.

“Wow...” Havoc breathed, finding himself drawn to stage on which three scantily-clad women were performing.

“I’ll meet you over there!” Mustang called to his captivated friend with a slight chuckle to his words. There was something Mustang had planned to do first, really the main reason he agreed to come: the bar.

“New here?” The woman behind the bar inquired, wiping a glass clean.

“Yeah,” He responded, identifying the mingled perfume to be emanating from her. Perhaps it was to call forth patrons, or to serve as yet another distraction from the misery outside the walls of the building. Either way, no one seemed to mind it all that much and some even welcomed its sweet embrace.

In the haze that clouded his mind, the 10 or 15 minutes that Mustang spent sitting at the bar felt like an eternity. It wasn’t an unwanted eternity, it served as a break, a head poking above water to take a levelheaded breath in the sea of stress. 

————————————————

“Edward!” A droning voice in his mind echoed, calling him forth. He jolted awake, to the voice, not that of his own mind, but rather of a girl with dark brown hair and pink streaks that practically glowed under the dim lighting.

“Rosé?” Ed grumbled,

“My shift start?”

She sighed at his carelessness,

“Yes, Ed. Now hurry up and go change!” She pulled him up to a standing position then shoved his usual clothes into his arms.

“I’ve got to go!” Rosé called over her shoulder as she left the back room, a small wave accompanying it. She was dressed in fairly classy attire, considering where she worked. A fine silk dress clung tightly against her figure, ending midway down her thighs. It was of a luxurious design purposefully; Rosé had only one job there: show off.

Ed, on the other hand, had a lower profile position. He waited on the tables of the club’s many patrons. Some didn’t even mask their desperation, groping and caressing him whenever the chance presented itself.

Ed was indeed an object of lust for many. He assumed they knew he was a boy, but that didn’t help the thought. He thought it best to force the ideas out of his mind, at least while he was at work.

The club was far from his first choice or work, but it was the best he could manage, considering his notorious reputation at the Fullmetal Alchemist and the “Alchemist of the people”. When he was there, however, no one seemed to know or care about the reality of his identity. Disguising his automail surely helped.

Tonight seemed like any other, people came in and people left, people watched and some people touched. It wasn’t an ideal job by any means, but it was enough to earn the under-the-radar cash he needed to fund his less public exploits.

Not long after he changed into his usual attire and started his shift, though, Ed realized how unusual that night really was going to be.

There, no less than thirty feet away was his superior officer, Roy Mustang. He was sitting there in all of his pretentious glory, drinking something lightly.

“Shit...” Ed muttered through gritted teeth,

“What’s that bastard doing here?” He ducked away to another table, barely avoiding the languid glance Mustang sent in his direction.

“I’ll have to kill him if he sees me here,” Ed resolved under his breath.

————————————————

Mustang downed his drink and stood up. He spotted Havoc near the stage and hastily beckoned him over. They found a table together, not to far from the stage, as requested by Havoc.

“I don’t know how you can spend so much time at the bar,” Havoc mused aloud, his gaze still captivated by the women on stage.

“On the contrary,” he replied slowly,

“I don’t know how you can spend so much money in these places,” he gestured about vaguely.

“Touché,” Havoc smirked, though Mustang couldn’t tell who the action was directed at.

They spent the time sitting at the table causally chatting and drinking. Maybe Havoc was right and this was the kind of respite Mustang needed.

————————————————

“Can you go to that one?” Ed asked, pointing inconspicuously at the table where Mustang now sat with Havoc.

“No! I can’t!” The other waitress, his colleague huffed,

“I have enough tables to worry about as it is!” And with that she stalked off, presumably to one of the aforementioned tables she was preoccupied with.

“This is a nightmare,” Ed grumbled, lightly tugging at strands of his golden hair in frustration. He kept it swept back behind his shoulders, but still down. His coworkers told him it suited him and he didn’t mind, but it was more so used as a mild disguise. Ed knew it wasn’t awfully convincing, but it made him feel more secure at the very least. Although, he could forgo all of the stroking and ‘accidental’ touches that it brought.

His hair wasn’t the only thing obvious about him, but his automail limbs hardly helped the charade. He wore black thigh-high stockings and dark gloves to mask them to the best of his ability. His outfit was by no means ‘unsexy’, but it wasn’t exactly perfect. The tight crop top and short pleated skirt he wore were reminiscent of that of a schoolgirl, but it certainly did not help with unwanted attention.

Ed was one of the few servers who actively declined patrons and, although he was thus paid less, he couldn’t afford to lose the last of the pride he had left.

The lust that sparkled in the eyes of so many was unsettling to say the least, but it was necessary so he put up with it.

What was it about people that made them like this? And to him especially? Maybe it was the temptation of him ‘playing hard to get’ in their eyes.

Shaking his head in disgust at the thought, Ed strode closer to the table he dreaded. Mustang would surely notice him for who he was. It was unlikely he was drunk enough to forget either. The future seemed bleak for Ed, but sacrifices had to be made and it wasn’t like this was his first time doing such.

So, as Ed slowly approached the table, he had a choice to make: play dumb and ignore the fact of who he was or accept the fact and hope for the best. In the reality or it, both options should have the ‘hope for the best’ tacked on. It wouldn’t be the worst thing.

No matter how slowly he walked, he was still becoming ever closer and closer to Mustang. Ed had to make a choice now or there was no hope for him.

————————————————

“Hello, boys. Anything I can get you tonight?”

Mustang looked up at beautiful blonde woman,

“Something strong for both of us,” he motioned slightly to Havoc. She nodded and sauntered away.

“Nice,” Havoc breathed, now staring at the woman.

“Your thirst knows no bounds, huh?”

Havoc looked at him and smirked at Mustang’s comment.

————————————————

Ed’s heart was pounding, he had narrowly escaped an awkward interaction Mustang because of her. Ed let a small sigh of relief between his lips, she was a lifesaver, quite literally.

“Too many tables to worry about, my ass,” Ed grumbled, a mild annoyance with her now surpassing his feeling of assurance. He quickly turned around, careful not to collapse in the platform heels he wore. Those were one of the few parts of the job he didn’t mind, the boost to his height was, in turn, a boost to his ego. 

“Too nervous to speak to a colonel?” The woman asked Ed mockingly as she strut by. She discreetly flashed a couple bank notes, obviously trying to make Ed jealous, but he didn’t take the bait.

“Fullmetal?” Mustang asked softly. Ed whipped around, had he been detected?!

“Yeah,” Havoc replied with a smile,

“Don’t think it isn’t obvious! You’ve got a soft spot for the kid!”

It appeared as though Havoc had brought up Edward to Mustang. He was safe... for now. Ed shuffled off to the side, eager to eavesdrop, while still avoiding his sight.

“It was subtle at first, so originally only Hawkeye picked up on it, but by now, all of us you took from Eastern command know.”

Mustang laughed, trying to gloss over the subject,

“Yeah, sure thing, Havoc. I favour him no more than any of you.”

“I didn’t know we meant that much to you!”

“Hey, baby,” a snide voice purred, grabbing Ed by the wrist and aggressively drawing him into the adjacent booth. Ed squeaked in surprise,

“H-hey!” He stuttered,

“Maybe just ask, you bastard,” His voice grew into a strangled growl at the stranger. The man grasped both of Ed’s wrists together in front of him and pulled him down on his lap.

“Now,” he drawled in a husky tone, leaning onto Ed’s shoulder and into his neck,

“Be a good boy for me,” His breath was hot, making Ed’s cool skin prickle uneasily,

“How much are you willing to pay?” Ed gasped.

“Depends on how I feel afterward,” He replied, licking an animalistic stripe up Ed’s neck that caused his body to tense violently. He gritted his teeth and repeated the question,

“How much will you pay?”

The man tightened his grip on Ed’s wrists,

“I’ll pay you well if you’re good to,” He bit Ed’s neck lightly, but the intentions behind it were vicious. The action made the small blond shiver in his lap.

“Fine,” Ed conceded, body relaxing as much as he could manage,

“How long?”

“That also depends on your ability.”

“Are you underestimating me?”

“Am I?” He hissed in Ed’s ear.

Ed struggled to wrench his hands free, but his attempts proved insufficient against the vicious might of the stranger.

“Perhaps,” a sudden voice announced,

“You could be a little more polite with the girls, Kimblee.”

“Oh the girls, sure,” the man sneered,

“But as for him,” he teasingly pulled up at the hem of Ed’s skirt. A bright blush spread across the boy’s cheeks and he averted his face from view quickly.

“Oh?” The voice responded, the voice Ed now recognized as Roy Mustang’s,

“Toying with the young girls wasn’t enough for you? Now you’ve got to with this boy as well?” Mustang extended a hand towards Ed,

“Come with me, I’ll pay you whatever he was going to.”

Ed bit his lip, torn between his choices. What was the lesser of the two evils at this point?

“Please,” Mustang pushed,

“I’ll take you away from this bastard,” the last word from his mouth dripped with acid as he shot an angry glance at Kimblee.

“You don’t want him over me, do you, my pet? I can make it worth your while,” he cooed softly into Ed’s ear.

In a sudden burst of fury, Ed leapt from Kimblee’s grasp and darted out of the booth, still unsure whether or not Mustang knew it were him who he had saved. Fire burned in Mustang’s eyes as he glared at Kimblee, eventually moving away to find the blond boy.

“You!” Mustang called, pointing at Ed who refused to directly meet his gaze and instead peered through his curtain of hair. 

“You should be more careful,” finished Mustang, walking up beside Ed.

“Yeah, because I was trying to get assaulted by some asshole who thinks he owns me,” Ed snapped back, clenching his fists,

“You’re here for the same thing, aren’t you?”

“Seems obvious considering I’m here, but no. I hadn’t planned on doing anything too crazy. Well... at least not while I’m this sober.”

Ed let out a short sigh, hating himself for asking,

“You here right now to try and own me? I can assure you it’s no easy task,” Ed allowed a small smirk to cross his lips.

“You remind me of someone I know...” Mustang commented quietly, turning to Ed who still avoided this.

“Well?” Ed urged, glancing at Mustang before turning his back fully to his superior. He sauntered away, now taking a mild delight in teasing the man.

Mustang, quite amused by the charade smiled and lightly took Ed’s hand in his own. He pulled the boy back toward him and whispered in his ear so only he could hear,

“Didn’t expect to find you in a place like this, Fullmetal.”

Ed inhaled sharply, it was too late and he would have been absurd to think he could fool Mustang for long. He spun around and replied with a quiet offer,

“If you can keep your mouth shut about this, I can make it up to you.”

Mustang raised an eyebrow,

“Bribing you superior officer? I’m intrigued.”

Ed muttered some profanity at Mustang’s impudent behaviour, but wasn’t particularly surprised. Ed leaned up onto Mustang’s neck,

“Come with me,” he whispered, leading the man away into an unoccupied booth where they (with any luck) wouldn’t be bothered.

“Havoc will wonder where I’ve gone,” Mustang pointed out as Ed pushed him down onto the plush seat.

“You think he’s still paying any attention to you? In a place like this? You really are idiotic, colonel.”

The way Ed used his title and clambered onto his lap had Mustang mesmerized. Ed tossed his golden hair back over his shoulder, irritated with its state of disarray.

“It suits you,” Mustang mumbled, noticing Ed’s annoyance.

“Shut up,” he muttered in response, straddling Mustang’s lap on his knees and holding his broad shoulders for support.

“You don’t have to go through with this, Fullmetal. I’ll never bring it up again if you want to stop.” Mustang offered, concern showing in his words.

“Shut up,” Ed repeated, more firmly, but in the same volume.

“You’re not doing this for the same reasons any more...” Mustang mused. Ed chose not to hear that statement and continued.

Slowly and deliberately, he ground his body against Mustang’s thigh. Mustang shut his eyes, his idle hands now gripping Ed’s waist, caught off guard by his willingness to do such a thing.

The music of the club, which had previously flooded his ears, now seemed quiet by comparison to the sounds emanating from Ed’s mouth.

Mustang went to speak, but choked on his words, more intoxicated by Ed than any of the alcohol he had consumed that evening. He opened his eyes to find Ed’s own golden ones intensely staring into them.

“I-“ Mustang began, but was cut off by Ed leaning into him and forcefully kissing him. His agape mouth quickly mimicked Ed’s passion, kissing back deeply and longingly. Ed pulled back after a few minutes, panting heavily. He smirked cockily at Mustang who returned it, lust flaring in both their eyes.

“You can’t pick favourites, Ed,” Mustang whispered huskily, tucking a strand of hair behind Ed’s ear.


End file.
